


You're Not Alone {I promise}

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, this was supposed to be sweet and got a little sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his eyes closed, he can almost see the arch of blue-black above him, freckled with points of light, whispering of freedoms far beyond the walls that only the stars can see.</p><p>Or, the one where Eren misses the stars and needs a hug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Alone {I promise}

**Author's Note:**

> For [levi-jaeger](http://levi-jaeger.tumblr.com), who deserves all of the love and kindness. Feel better soon.

He was never a fan of starlight, really; it was faint andweak, the overlapping shades of blue harder to see by than the clarity of the sun. Starlight meant it was night, when everyone was quiet and his restless mind would not silence itself to sleep as soon as he’d like, so Eren didn’t really like it. It wasn’t until he’d spent some time in a cell, trapped under the earth in the dark, that he began to miss it. The first night after Hanji keeps him up all night, and he’s finally locked away in his cell, he thinks to himself that he’d give a lot of things to just have a sliver of faint white-blue light easing through the cracks of a pair of shutters, reminding him that there was fresh air and a wide sky not far away. With his eyes closed, he can almost see the arch of blue-black above him, freckled with points of light, whispering of freedoms far beyond the walls that only the stars can see.

His dark cell of a room becomes easier to bear as the weeks pass, but he doesn’t like it any more than the first night. Time blunts the memory of clear, starry night skies enough that he starts to wonder if his stuffy little cell is all there is to the world, some nights.

It’s on a late trip for supplies that reminds him, the vastness of the heavens flung wide open above his head, a canopy of fresh clean air and bright stars. Corporal Levi is scolding him, has done so several times for lagging back on his horse, head craned back, and he makes himself snap forward again, trotting the gelding up closer to the wagon. Even still, the smell of the cold, clear air in his nose has him sitting up straighter, nearly vibrating because he forgot how good it felt to be outside at night.

He’s still trying to behave, to only sneak little glimpses up above the trees, but a soft huff from his Corporal makes him start guiltily.

“You’re not gonna sleep a wink tonight, are you? Buzzin’ like a firefly.” There’s a fond note in the otherwise acerbic tone, as if the complaint is somehow a compliment.

Flushing, Eren scratches at his cheek, grateful it’s dark enough to hide the red. “Sorry, sir.” After a pause, stealing one more look up, he adds, “It’s just been a long time since I got to be out this late, and the sky is so pretty…”

“Mm,” the older man hums to himself, pulling the horses to a stop gradually as he tilts his head back. A long moment passes, a mutual silence spent in awe under the vastness of the dark sky. Finally, softer than most people have heard him speak, Levi rasps, “Yeah… it’s not bad.”

It’s peaceful, the way very little is anymore, and Eren finds himself breathing out in relief,  just a bit of the anxiety and unhappiness trapped in his chest slipping away on the sigh. It’s hard to stay positive in the dark, cooped up behind bars, but he manages; they’re soldiers, they can do no less than carry on, but Gods above, it’s hard. Moments like this, though… this makes it more bearable. The wind picking up enough to tease cool and ethereal at the edges of his cloak, and he thinks he knows what freedom might feel like, just a little.

A gentle hand rubs between the blades of his shoulders, as light as that breeze, then lifts to trace over the curve of a cheekbone and the edge of lashes he hadn’t known he’d closed. The sky seems blurred when he looks up at it, and for the moment he’s too at ease to even be angry at the trace of tears he usually hates to show. More embarrassing is the knowing hand that doubtless felt the wet on his lashes, calloused, slender fingertips wiping it away. He wants to mumble an apology, but his head is still turned all the way up and maybe, if he doesn’t look down, he can pretend that he’s up in the sky, that he’s not really crying in front of his commanding officer in the dark between trees on the road back to the castle.

Levi would be well within his rights to chastise him for dawdling or tell him to get his emotions under control; he doesn’t, because for all that he has a tough reputation, the Corporal is a lot gentler with people than most of them realize. He’s not given to coddling, either, but the touch stays, brushing gentle circles over his temple. Paradoxically, that little kindness  makes him happier but prompts the tears to come faster, breath catching in his throat. His tired neck cramps and Eren lets his head fall forward, heavy now with his chin nearly to his chest, refusing to look at his corporal as he tries to swipe his face quickly.

“Hey.” Insistent fingertips tug at his chin, and even Eren’s most stubborn streak isn’t willing to yank his face away to avoid the gentle tip upwards. His eyes stay squeezed shut, jaw tight as he breathes tightly through his nose. _Calm down, calm down, please._ He doesn’t want to let his emotions ruin one of the few perfect moments in his life, can’t afford to lose control even this much when there’s a monster under his skin, but it hurts. Capable fingers run through his hair, pushing it back, and for the first time in a long time he feels very, very small.

“It’s alright, Eren. This isn’t the last sky you’re going to see.” The words are soft, the determination underneath them unyielding. Levi doesn’t say anything else, just rests his fingers on the nape of Eren’s neck, thumb swiping across his pulse. His eyes are still closed and now he’s afraid to open them, because if he does this precious moment might end, and that’s something Eren doesn’t think he can bear. Air moves in a flutter over his skin, and he recognizes it as breath only when skin presses gently to his brow; against his will he looks, then, unable to stop himself. Despite his fears, there’s no moment of shock or bright spotlights that catches them, only darkness and quiet. Grey eyes that are kinder than anyone gives them credit for peek beneath a fall of black hair as Levi finishes kissing his brow and leans back to meet the curious glance.

 _This isn’t the last sky you’re going to see_. Eren wants to cry again, but this time it’s easier to swallow, to purge the feeling by leaning forward. Forgetting the boldness of the move in the permission of the moment, marveling at the warmth of another person’s skin as he brushes his first awkward, uncertain kiss in thanks over the ridge of Levi’s cheekbone. His head drops immediately after, too flustered to make eye contact again, and his brow thunks solidly against his corporal’s collarbone. “…thank you, _Heichou_.”

There’s a quiet chuckle that rumbles up through the chest his face rests against; after a moment the fingers return to carding through his hair, slow and soothing. The angle is a little awkward, the horses underneath them shifting restlessly now and then, whickering in the dark at each other for comfort. Soothing, in an odd way. Eren can’t see the stars from here, but the warmth of an arm wrapped halfway around him and the heartbeat thrumming steadily under his ear are just as good.

Time passes, uncounted and unhurried, until they finally by mutual decision shift away from each other, Eren to rub his face clean on his sleeve, Levi to straighten his cravat as if he hasn’t noticed the damp stain on the side of his lapel. The breeze picks up again, a little colder now, and Eren shivers. Levi’s softest voice murmurs, “C’mon, brat, let’s get back home,” and they do, a companionable silence lasting them all the way to the castle walls.

This time, he doesn’t feel dread at the thought of his room, doesn’t dally at dressing down the horses or carrying the supply bags into the back room. He’s tired, and barely manages a response when Levi murmurs goodnight before clicking the lock of his cell closed. The dark is still oppressive, but when Eren closes his eyes,  the pillow under his face feels firmer and warmer, with the phantom flutter of someone’s heartbeat against his cheek. He has a fresh memory of the sky and the stars, but he doesn’t need it tonight, because for once the darkness feels safe. He drifts off in the memory of being held gently, one that shifts into quiet, peaceful dreams where he counts the stars reflected in calm, kind grey eyes.


End file.
